The Hand That Made Us

1The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue, ethereal sky,
And spangled heav'ns, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
Th'unwearied sun from day to day Does his Creator's pow'r display,
And publishes to ev'ry land The work of an almighty hand.

2Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale;
And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth;
While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.

3What though in solemn silence all Move round the dark terrestrial ball?
What though no real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found?
In reason's ear they all rejoice And utter forth a glorious voice,
Forever singing as they shine,
The hand that made us is divine.